


Break rule

by Baby_Yoda_2007



Series: Do you love me? [2]
Category: Fight Club (1999)
Genre: Fluff without Plot, How much italics do you want? Yes, I LIVE FOR THIS SHIP, M/M, Tyler P.O.V., Tyler calls Angel Face snowflake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27705773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baby_Yoda_2007/pseuds/Baby_Yoda_2007
Summary: Fluff of them on a roof. (Yeah)
Relationships: Angel Face/Tyler Durden
Series: Do you love me? [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026319
Kudos: 6





	Break rule

Yes, there were some cops in Fight Club and Project Mayhem, but not all. Running of the police was a pretty common thing, but, it didn't usually ended inside a dumpster with your lover complaining about feeling something moving.

"It's my damn hand." You truly try to assure, knowing it was a lie, but also knowing that saying that there is a rat saying hello was going to lead to screams.

Who would know that burning a golf course with a homemade bomb wasn't a two men operation? That's what you get from wanting intimacy away from the bedroom. It actually go well, it is clear by the firefighters sirens at the distance. But it did go wrong when the police came in before...

"Tyler, this is disgusting." He complies, interrupting your plane of thought.

"Do you prefer be clean or be arrested?" You ask, he grunts but keeps quiet.

 _'Soon, you will touch bottom, snowflake.'_ You think.

Continuing, police came, we ran, ended in an alley, there was a dumpster, I think quickly.

"Let's go, it's clean." You say, when there aren't cops to be seen.

"Tell me 'bout it." He mutters.

"There is fire stairs above, we will go to the roof of the building."

"They're like 6 floors." He says.

"Angel... S-T-O-P complaining." You said, opening the dumpster and getting out of it, he followed you. 

"You owe me..." He starts, when we are on top.

"I own you." You say, it was true. 

"I didn't mean that, I want you to give me something." 

"What do you want?" You ask, already wanting to be out of the situation.

"Dunno, whatever you wanna give me." He mutters.

You think for a moment, what would please his pretty blonde head, to keep him from whining for a time. 

"You can break one rule." You say after about half of a minute. "Any you want, 'till sunrise."

He seems to think for a second, but then he looks back at you. "Break rule number one, ask questions." 

"Okay then, ask." You say, resting your head against an small wall.

"Favorite color?"

You scoff at that. "Are you serious?" 

"Come on, Tyler. I wanna feel like a normal couple."

_We're not a couple._

"Orange."

"Fun, your turn." He says.

_When this became twenty questions? It's that even how that game works?_

"With who was your first time?" You ask.

"I'd needed to like it?" He asks, thinking.

"Yes." You say, a bit absent.

"You." 

"Liar, your turn."

"I'm not lying. Favorite food?" He says. _Why are you so simple?_

"3 days old cold pizza." You say. "What do you hate most?"

"Wet socks... which I do have now, thank you." 

"Those are material things, don't get too involved."

"A'right Mr. Zen, night or day?"

_Why does it matters?_

"Night." You don't want to see the horrors at the light day. Night creates a beautiful feeling of unknown. "Men or women?"

"You." He says. "What do you fear most?" He asks with curiosity.

"Those cats without any hair, how about you?" You ask, don't thinking about it too much. "Don't say, I know it." You end up saying.

"What it is?" He ask.

"You fear freedom, fear admitting that you hate it. That's why you didn't shaved your head, you're not ready for the freedom of not being special. But you will, soon. You need me, to tell you what you need to do. But I'm not going to be always here."

"I was gonna say that I'm scared of turtles and of getting tetanus because swimming in a dumpster, but." He says, we laugh a little about it.

"Where did you worked?" He asks, getting closer to you, your shoulders are touching.

"Cinema, waitress, soap making. Did you ever worked?" You ask, he nods. "In what?" 

"Strip Club. Hated it, but, who cares?" He mutters. "Old man wanted money for his alcohol." 

You slowly move your hand to his back, and get him into a subtitle hug. 

"I do care." You whisper in his ear. 

It is a lie, obviously, a pretty- beautiful- one, that he needs to hear to forget about an old wound. You don't want know of his past, it didn't mattered, anyways. It will only make him sad, and needed of a comfort that you cannot give.

"When's your birthday?" He asks.

"December 18. Do you dye your hair?"

"No." He says. "Can you touch me? But like, in a soft way." He asks quietly, like he is scared of the answer.

"You want me to cuddle with you?" You ask, he does a small nod. "I can do that." You say moving your hand of his back to his waist, he rest his head on your shoulder, kissing your cheek.

"I love you." He whisper. "More than anything."

_Do not ask it.... Do not ask it... Do not..._

“Do you love me?” He asks. _Fuck You._

“I like you.” You say, thinking about a new question.

“Like the way you like the calendars with of puppies with too big ears, or like you r e a l l y like me?” He asks.

“I like you.” You say, moving his head to your lap and stroking his hair, wanting to distract him. “What would have made you leave that porch?” You asked, he made a weird sound. “Are you purring?” 

“No, and nothin’. I say it, I didn’t liked my life before.” He says slowly. “The you’re too fucking blonde was funny anyways.”

“Turn.” You mutter.

“Do you wish I had done it?” He yawns. “Leave the porch?”

“I don’t know how would it be without you so I can’t say anything.” He does a little pout, so you continue. “But I like you here.” You reply the yawn and close your eyes while trying to make your head more comfortable on the wall. “Did you ever sleep with a space monkey?” 

“No, you?” He asks.

“Yeah.” Even with your eyes closed, you feel him tensing in your touch.

“Before or after we meet?” 

“Both.” You say. “Did you ever got hit outside fight club?”

_Whatever, we’re breaking rules anyways._

“Yes. Why sometimes you make me feel so good and, other times, you’re mean to me? It’s like you were a full different person.” He asks _the_ question.

“Good mornin’.” You say, seeing the light of the sun. _Thanks._ He grunts and moves his hand, with black nails for some reason, to the back of your neck and pull your head down for a kiss.

“‘Mornin’. Can we come back now? I’m tired.” He mutters, hugging your waist. _Ugh you are so…_

“Yes, need a shower anyways.” You say, trying to stand. “Will you move?”

“I love you.” He says, moving to your side.


End file.
